Uncle Pete
by LucyLuna
Summary: Instead of leaving Miles to fight Kingpin alone, Peter B. stuck around. Afterward, he expected to die for his choice, but after a lightbulb moment on Miles's part, that changed. One-Shot. For XspriteyX.


_Uncle Pete_

* * *

"Peter B. gets stuck in Miles verse and they are both glum that he's gonna glitch out before they can find him a new way home, Miles more so than Peter who's like 'welp I knew this was gonna happen'. But during dinner with his parents, Miles hears his mom talk about transfusions and rejections and has a lightbulb moment. Peter B. gets a blood transfusion, which is donated by Miles, as he's the only other spider-person, and after a few weeks and treatments, Peter starts to stabilize as the 'verse begins recognizing him as part of its reality. He still has to take regular transfusions, which Miles's mom oversees, to make sure he stays stable.

"Also when his parents ask who Peter is, he answers Uncle Peter, to which all are like 'what?'. Miles quickly comes up with a story about Peter B. being with Uncle Aaron and from there the lie spreads with truth sprinkled in. Ex. "They had a huge fight just before he... ya know." Peter grumbles about the whole thing as he starts to be invited to frequent family dinners and Miles shoving facts and stories about Aaron down Peter's throat then quizzing him on it so he doesn't reveal the truth at said dinners. Peter chooses to roll with it though since it is a good reason why he and Miles know each other without bringing up Spider-Man. Dinners happen so often than Miles calls him Uncle Peter all the time after a while. When Gwen hears about it, she thinks it's hilarious and takes to teasing them."

-o-O-o-

Miles stared up at Kingpin's looming figure, blood pounding in his ears. He knew there was no time to move and forced himself to loosen up in preparation for the coming attack. It would hurt less this way Miles knew and that would also mean it would take less time to get up. Even so, Miles couldn't stop himself from squeezing his eyes shut when Kingpin raised a beefy hand. However, the hit never came, instead, he heard the man give a short, choked sound followed by a thud that he could feel in the ground beneath him. Opening his eyes, he saw Peter standing in front of him, hands on his hips.

"Hey, kid," he said.

Miles gaped behind his mask. "Peter, what are you still doing here!"

He put up his hands in a placating gesture and said, "I know, I know, but it looked like you could use some help," he said, "and…" he trailed off and sighed. Hand on the back of his neck, he looked up into the mess of swirling colors and objects and told him, "MJ's a great lady. She'll find somebody who can make her happy without breaking her heart first."

"But you're gonna die!" Miles cried, his heart constricting painfully in his chest. Sure, he felt bad that the MJ in Peter's 'verse was going to lose him as the one here had, but that was hardly the least pressing issue right now. Doc Ock had made it clear, Peter couldn't survive here and dying would be an excruciating experience. Those were the last things he wanted for his friend.

He stared down at Miles for a long moment before his shoulders slumped and he said, "I know."

Voice barely a whisper, Miles said, "I don't want that."

Peter held out a hand to him, which Miles took. "Not up to you, kid," he said while pulling Miles into a standing position next to him. "Now, come on, let's fix this mess."

-o-O-o-

Absently, Miles stuck a forkful of chicken in his mouth and began to chew. As he did, his eyes drifted away from the conversing faces of his parents to the TV in the living room. He couldn't see the entire screen from where he was, but he could see enough. Red and blue flashed across the screen and then his own masked face appeared. People had a lot of opinions about him (no surprise there). Some bad, but, mostly, good. People were happy; relieved to know even if Peter Parker was gone, there was a new Spider-Man who would protect New York in his steed. Seeing himself on the TV and stuff didn't even make him anxious. It was really the only time he saw himself at all, Peter had shown him a lot of tricks those first few days and given him some tips on how to filter out most news about himself.

"_You probably won't always need to use so many filters and have so many no-go places, but for the first few weeks, eh, months, I would. People are going to say a lot of crap and you don't need that in your head while you're trying to get the hang of things."_

_"Thanks."_

_"No problem, kid."_

Miles frowned and glanced at his plate, stabbing a bean. Now that he was thinking about Peter, he couldn't help but recalls the conversation they had right after the battle about where he would go now since this wasn't his New York and he didn't have a home.

"_Where are you gonna stay?" he asked as they watched from a skyscraper as his dad and other policemen worked together to cut Kingpin out of the webbing Miles and Peter left him tied up in._

_Peter gave a small grunt and sat down on the skyscraper's ledge, one foot dangling over the edge. _"_With Aunt May," he answered, "at least until I'm glitching like all the time. I'd rather not her find her nephew from another 'verse's body on her bathroom floor or living room couch, ya know?"_

_Miles bit his lip, eyes stinging. He'd almost forgotten for the moment._"_How long till then?" he asked in a whisper as he pulled up his mask to wipe the tears from his eyes._

_Peter sighed and pulled his own mask back. Turning to look at Miles, he said, _"_A couple? Few? Days? Honestly kid? Dunno. If you want to swing by a time or two in the next week…" He looked away and shrugged his shoulders. " I'll be there or have left a note with where you can find me at her house."_

_Miles swallowed the lump in his throat and forced a smile. "Okay, thanks, Peter…"_

_Peter gave him a small nudge with his elbow. "Chin up, kid. This isn't a tragedy, alright? I chose this."_

_He sniffed and nodded. "Yeah, yeah okay."_

"Miles, are you okay, _Papá_?" his mom asked, drawing him out of his memories. Her dark eyes were filled with concern and she said, "You look a little distracted, _mijo_."

"Uh?" he mumbled, only to give her a resolute bob of his head and smile. "Yeah, Mom," he said. Thoughts still on Peter, he asked, "Hey, after dinner is it okay if I go see a friend for an hour or two?"

His Dad drew Miles's gaze when he said, "I don't know Miles, tomorrow you'll be going back to school anyway." He picked up his knife and cut another piece from the chicken on his plate. "Maybe you should focus on your homework."

"Please, Dad?" he wheedled, "I swear I won't stay out too long."

Dad started to frown, but then Mom put a hand on his forearm and he sighed. "Well… Okay," he relented. "You _have _been doing better at school lately." His dad pointed his fork at him, face now stern. "Don't make me regret this."

Miles smiled, relieved."Yeah, Dad. I won't."

His dad flashed a smile back at him before turning his attention to Miles's mom, eyes just a little gooey as he said, "Now, baby, what was it you were saying about that patient you had earlier?"

Mom's eyebrows furrowed a moment before understanding smoothed them and she nodded. "Oh, yes, him. We were really worried about one guy on our ward today," she said to his dad, "it was really touch and go and we kept having to give him transfusions and he was one of the rarer types. We were afraid we were going to run about before we got our next delivery from the blood bank."

Usually, Mom's hospital stories were of little interest to Miles. Sometimes they could be really cool, other times funny, or gross, and even sad, but since he'd grown up listening to them they sounded just about as exciting to him as a story from an accountant's day at work usually. However, thanks to today's story, the word transfusion was sticking in his head like his hand to a brick wall.

It was more than a little crazy, but a thought for how to save Peter was coming together. Using the right kind of blood when someone was low on blood of their own could give them a chance to make it out of a life-threatening situation alive. He also knew there was another kind that cancer patients got. Something to do with replacing the parts of the blood with the thing it didn't have or was damaged. He wondered if maybe the same couldn't be done for Peter. Maybe if they used his blood, another spider-person's, they could little bit by little bit replace the parts of Peter that were being rejected by this reality. Or at least stave off his 'verse trying to kill him until they could get him where he really belonged. Hell, if that wasn't working, maybe they could try that one where they took the stuff inside your bones out and put it in somebody who was sick to replace their sick and dead stuff. It could work. It _had _to. Miles couldn't stand the thought of anybody else dying.

Especially not Peter. He'd already gotten one killed, he wasn't going to kill this one too.

-O-

Miles arrived at May's home just in time to come in and see Peter glitch out on her living room floor before either could so much as say hello. It was scary to watch, maybe even scarier than it had been a few days ago before he knew what was happening. It had lasted _much _longer than earlier and the glitches had been a lot bigger. When it finally stopped, he'd taken Peter's hand and helped him over to May's new couch. Miles had taken a seat on it himself and explained his idea.

Of course, Peter shot it down immediately. Miles, though, was not easily deterred. Especially when it could mean that Peter could _live_.

"Come on, man," Miles begged Peter. "It's worth a shot! I even know Mom's a type O! I dunno about Dad, but maybe it could still work even if he's, like, an AB+ and passed it on to me. Hell, maybe it won't even matter 'cause of the whole spider-thing!"

"No," Peter said for what had to be the twelfth time in twenty minutes. Jaw set, he told Miles, voice rough, "No, Miles. I'm not going to do this, get your hopes up, and then crush them all over when it doesn't work."

Miles couldn't take it anymore and jumped to his feet. Waving his hand in the air, he yelled, "We don't know that it won't! It _could_!"

Peter sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Wearily, he looked up from his lap at him and started, "Miles—"

Only to be cut off by May's soft voice. "—Peter give it a try," she said from where she was hugging herself in the doorway to the room.

"What?" he whispered, looking in her direction, eyes wide. "Aunt May? When did you come…?"

Giving a gentle shake of her head, she walked into the living room and over to their sides. Sitting on the edge of the couch next to Peter, she took one of his hands in both of hers and said, "I admit, it sounds a little woo-woo—"

"—A _little_?" the man cut in, voice derisive.

May's lips quirked in a half-smile, eyes dancing with amusement. "Okay, a lot," she admitted. "But what else do we have at this point _but _woo? I've got a friend who's a nurse, I can give her a call, have her bring some stuff over, and we can give this a try."

Peter frowned. "Aunt May…"

"Please, Peter, for me?" she pleaded. "I…" she began only to drop her eyes to her lap. "I know I'm not really your aunt – no more than your my Peter –but I think we both love each other anyway, don't we?" she asked, voice small.

Peter put the hand not between May's own on top of hers. "Yeah," he said, "I love you, Aunt May."

Eyes big and wet, May told Peter, "Losing you is going to break my heart, but at least if we try this, I can know we did everything we could to keep us from the point where I had to bury my nephew for a second time."

"Aunt May," said Peter.

A steely resolve settled into May's features and Miles was reminded that being old didn't mean you were weak. Especially in the case of a woman like May who'd seen more than her fair share of hardships and buried more family than Miles knew. "For me, Peter, if not Miles," she insisted.

Peter glanced from her to him, and back to her again. Finally, he agreed, "…Okay."

-o-O-o-

Walking out of the glass revolving doors, Miles stuffed his hands in the pockets of his oversized hoodie and grumbled, "It figures that May's nurse friend's acquaintance who owes her a favor works at the same hospital as Mom."

Peter grinned down at him and gave his hood a tug, pulling it from where it rested over his face to behind his ears. "Ah, don't worry, kiddo, it's a big place," he reassured Miles, "I bet we'll never run into her."

Unpocketing his hands and fixing his hoodie _just in case_, he muttered, "I hope so."

Peter looked behind Miles, down the corridor they'd crossed, and toward the revolving doors in the entryway. "We could always put this off until she's back next week from vacation…" he said, speculative.

Miles stopped mid-step and spun around to gape at the man. How could he even suggest that? Jokingly or not, they'd come way too close to losing Peter for that _ever _to be funny. Especially during the first two weeks when they were figuring out just how often he needed a transfusion from Miles to stave off a glitch. That big one he'd had after they decided to test how long between transfusion they could go had been the scariest Miles witnessed and it had really scared him, having thought then it was the end for his friend.

Thank God it hadn't been. And thank God they'd figured out just how often Peter needed transfusions to continue to be healthy (every three days was best, but they could go four if they really had to). Upset, Miles decried, "What? No!" Huffing and puffing, he lectured, "We just got you stabilized like a month and a half ago." Leaning forward, he jabbed a finger in Peter's soft chest and growled, "We're _not _messing that up."

Peter leaned away, faced twisted with a sulky sort of stubbornness. "The glitches really weren't that bad," he tried.

Miles crossed his arms and looked away. "Psh, yeah, man, _sure_," he replied, voice oozing with disbelief.

Peter sighed and Miles looked up at him when one of his hands settled on his shoulder. Even with Miles staring straight at him, he wouldn't quite meet Miles's gaze. "C'mon, kid, I know I yank your chain sometimes…"

He huffed and pulled away from the man. "Nope," he said, "nuh-huh, not lissstening! La, la, la…"

"Okay, okay, I get it!" Peter snapped, grabbing Miles's arms and pulling his hands from his ears. "C'mon kid, let's find this Jackson guy and get this done with before everyone in this hospital thinks we're coupla weirdos."

Miles grinned. "I knew you'd see things my way."

Peter rubbed the back of his neck and mumbled, "Sheesh, kids…"

Reaching into the pocket of his pants, Miles pulled out a haphazardly folded piece of list paper. Opening it up, he read the small, neat print. When done, he looked up and pointed to the doorway left of them. "Aight, so we just gotta go this way, and then hang a right halfway down…"

-O-

An hour later, Miles and Peter were meandering back toward the doors they'd come in from. More at ease than he had been when they first came, Miles grinned at Peter and exclaimed, "That wasn't so bad!" Turning his head quickly to look up at Peter and knocking back his hood in the process, he said, "Nurse Jackson was kinda rough and all, but he made sure everything was really fast."

Peter pursed his lips at Miles before he said, "You realize that's because he didn't want us there, don't you?"

Miles stopped. He _hadn't_, actually. A little embarrassed now, he stammered, "Uh…"

The man chuckled at Miles and shook his head. Stepping out of the way of a nurse coming down the hallway, he said, quietly, to Miles, "I don't know what kinda blackmail little old Ginger has on that guy, but it's gotta be juicy."

He wrinkled his nose. Who said that anymore? "Juicy? Really, man?" he replied, tone joking as they started walking down the hallway again.

Peter shrugged his shoulders. "I'm old, sue me."

"Isn't the 'verse you come from ahead of mine?" asked Miles as he walked alongside Peter.

Peter waved a hand in the air. "Eh, I was twenty-six too in '18 back home," he explained. "So I'd still sound old talking to you…"

Miles snickered and was going to say something else when they rounded a corner and all but ran into his mom. "_Mamí_!" he exclaimed, shocked. Oh, this was _not _good. How in the world was he going to explain why he was here?

Eyes large, she gaped at him. "Miles!" she said, "what are you doing here?"

Miles began to tug at his sleeves, uncomfortable. "I was, uh," he stuttered, desperately trying to come up with something. He glanced at Peter, who was giving Miles his own wide-eyed look. Internally he cussed, realizing Peter wasn't going to swoop in and save him. Looking back at his mom, he saw the corners of her mouth were turning downward and if he didn't say something fast he was going to be in some hot water. Panicking even more now, he blurted out a strange, half-truth, "I was going with Uncle Pete to get his transfusion!"

His mom blinked. Her eyes then shifted to Peter. "Uncle… Pete?" she said slowly.

Miles nodded enthusiastically. Okay, he probably shouldn't have called him his uncle (even if Miles was sort of starting to see him as one), but they could work with it. He just had to figure out a way to explain how this white guy who his parents didn't know earned the title. "Yeah!" he reassured his mom. "He and Uncle Aaron were, a, uh, _thing_," he told her, a sweat breaking out on the back of his neck as he forced his smile even wider. A thing? A _thing_? Why had he said _that_? He should have just said they were roomies or something! But no, he'd made them have a _relationship_!

"A _thing_?" his mom repeated, voice astonished as her eyes darted between the two of them.

Miles just knew Peter had to be annoyed with him, so he didn't look at him, only jabbed the man with his elbow to get him to _do _something. Miles had done enough to make a mess of this, now it was his turn.

Peter gave a small 'oomph!', but recovered quickly enough to stick out his hand to Miles's mom and say, "Erh, hello, Aaron told me a bit about you, Rio…"

His mom took Peter's hand and shook it. Her tone was incredulous as she said, "He did."

Miles looked up at Peter out of the corner of his eye and saw Peter was looking away from him and his mom, one hand on the back of his neck. "Well, Miles, more than him, but, yeah."

"How long…?" his mom started to ask before she stopped herself by biting her lip.

Peter sighed and seemed to resign himself to the lie. "We were kind of recently broken up when stuff, uh, happened, but a good while before that," he told Miles's mom.

"Yeah! Like just a couple of weeks," Miles added, turning his lie he into an outright fable. He sure hoped Peter would forgive him for all of this later. "He'd just finished cleaning his stuff out of Uncle Aaron's apartment when everything went down."

His mom looked down and put a hand to forehead and began to massage her temples. A moment later, she looked up at the man, apologetic. "I'm sorry, Pete," she said, "I'm just trying to wrap my head around everything." She crossed her arms and looked away. "Aaron never…" she mumbled, "he always seemed…"

Peter's lips quirked. "Not into guys?" he offered.

Miles's mom bit her lip. "Well…"

"Yeah," said Peter, now smiling, almost like he actually thought this was all very funny instead of horrifying. "I think I was a special case," he explained.

"Ah," Mom replied. Her expression then turned speculative and she looked Peter up and down a moment before she said, "This might seem a little loco since we never met you and you were broken up when he passed, but why don't you come by our place for dinner tonight?" she suggested. "I'm sure Jeff would love to meet you. And I for one would like to know more about you, and how Miles knows you, but _never said anything_," she added, eyes now fixed on Miles. He resisted the urge to gulp at the intensity of her gaze. Uh-oh, he was in for a interrogation later. Miles would need to get all of his lies straight before he went home or this mess was going to turn into outright chaos.

Peter shuffled in place and muttered, "Erh, I don't know…"

"It's not like you have anything going on tonight Uncle Pete," Miles said. Which was true. If he wasn't at dinner with his family tonight, he was going to be sitting on May's couch watching like Family Fracas or something. While really Miles kind of wanted to put off the grilling coming his way, he also kinda wanted Peter to meet his parents. It'd be nice if they could all know each other and get along. Putting a whiny edge into his voice, he lied, "Come on, meet Mom and Dad. You always wanted to before you and Uncle Aaron split."

Peter frowned. "I did?"

"_Yes_, you did," Miles hissed back. He was _not _letting Peter get out of this now.

Seemingly realizing this wasn't an argument was going to win, Peter relented. "Right, I did," he agreed.

"Sooo, tonight?" Miles's mom asked.

"Yeah, okay," said Peter. "What time…?"

She smiled. "How about seven?" her gaze moved to Miles. "You can be there too, right, Miles? You don't have plans with friends tonight?"

He shook his head. "No, I don't have plans today."

"Alright, it's settled," his mom said, "I will see you two later!" She then leaned in to kiss Miles and another handshake from Peter before waving goodbye and getting back to work.

"Bye Mom!" he called after her. After she was out of view, he turned to Peter and said, "We have some _serious _cramming to do."

"Cramming?" he echoed, miffed.

Miles nodded animatedly. "Uh, yeah, man. Mom thinks your Uncle Aaron's ex-boyfriend. If we're sticking to that story, there's a lot you're gonna hafta know about him before we go to dinner tonight."

"Are you being serious?" asked Peter. When Miles only stared at him, unimpressed he muttered, "Aw, Jeez…"

-o-O-o-

Stretched out on May's living room couch waiting for it to be time for him and Peter to go to dinner at his parents' place, Miles peppered Peter with questions about his uncle. "Favorite color?" he asked.

Peter, seated in a recliner, had his eyes glued on the television placed in the front of the room. A talk show was flickering across the screen. Miles wondered if they had this one back in his 'verse, or if it was a little different there. Those speculations only kept him distracted a moment, however, and he quickly realized Peter wasn't answering. He was going to ask his question again when Peter blurted, like he just remembered, "Purple."

He grinned, happy. That was the fourth one Peter had gotten right in a row. A new record. "Good," he said, "now, who's Uncle Aaron's favorite music artists?"

Peter looked away from the TV and at Miles, face scrunching with thought. "Uhh, Biggie and Destiny's Child?"

"No and yes. Uncle Aaron's favorite rapper is _Tupac_. He even saw him live once."

Peter frowned and ran a hand through his hair. "Right, Tupac," he muttered. "You had a whole spiel about why he is, but what about Destiny's Child? Is there a reason for him enjoying them so much that if I don't know it your dad is going to know something's up?"

Miles pursed his lips and turned his head toward the wicker basket of decorative spheres sitting on the coffee table. Those were kind of dope, actually. He liked the colors May had picked. "Uh, no?" he replied only to correct himself and say, "Well, I can _guess. _ From what I've seen, all of them were _fine _in their heyday." Glancing at Peter, he added, "And Beyoncé's was and is still really impressive to listen to."

"Yeah, they were," agreed Peter, a faraway, slightly dreamy look on his face. He sighed and shook his head a moment later and asked, "Honestly, why did your mom believe us _at all _when you said we were a thing?"

Miles put his hands behind his head and turned his eyes to the ceiling. "I dunno, we probably just stunned her," he admitted. "That's why you gotta know this stuff. When we go to dinner tonight it'll look like we aren't lying if you do."

Peter put his face into his hands and groaned. "Your dad is so not going to believe this."

Miles squirmed uncomfortably on the sofa before he admitted, "Dad and Uncle Aaron weren't really talking when he died."

"Oh?" said Peter.

He looked back to the man and saw his chin was in his hands, eyes curious and mouth quirked in a sympathetic frown. Miles nodded. "I'm pretty sure he had some kind of idea about the whole the Prowler thing for a while. I think…" he trailed off as he furrowed his brows in thought. Sifting through his memories, he realized the last time he recalled seeing his dad and uncle together had been when he was a little kid. He said as such to Peter, "The last time I remember them being in a room together was when I was, like, eight. That's a lot of years to not see somebody. Uncle Aaron totally could have hooked up with somebody and broken up with them without Dad ever realizing."

Peter's jaw clenched. "But to a _guy_?" he demanded.

Miles shrugged and picked up one of the decorative balls from the wicker basket on May's coffee table. "Some of the hardest guys are the gayest," he said, turning the ball over in his hands and taking in the swirls of blue and green decorating it. "That's why they're so hard, to protect their gayness."

Some of the tension began to fade from Peter, but he still looked uncomfortable. "Okay and… Your super hard uncle introduced me to you as his _partner_."

Miles made a derisive noise. Of course Uncle Aaron wouldn't have done _that_. He probably would have introduced Peter as a roomie or a buddy just crashing at his place for a bit. "No, of course not, but if this were all true, I would have known you a while by now and I'm fifteen. I'd have figured out what you really were to Uncle Aaron by now."

"Ugh, okay," relented Peter, throwing himself back in his recliner. "I guess we can swing this. If this ever becomes a big discussion with your parents, though, let's make one fact clear: I'm _bisexual_. It's still a lie, but not as big of one as me being gay," he explained.

"Sure, that's fair," agreed Miles. He could respect Peter wanting that distinction. If in the future he said something about dating or doing stuff with a woman, it wouldn't have his parents raising their eyebrows like being gay would. "Now that it's all settled," he said, "did Uncle Aaron have any tattoos anywhere?"

Peter smirked. "No, shockingly, given his career path," he answered. " Just a good burn scar from trying to help your dad cook some Chef Boiardi on the stove when they were kids." He glanced away then, expression uncertain, "Hey, how young are we talking here anyway? Eight? Nine?"

"That's right," Miles replied, beaming. "And Uncle Aaron was four, I think."

Peter blinked at him. "Four? Jeez, no wonder your uncle was tight-lipped about what it was like growing up."

"Yeah, Dad's not much better," Miles replied as he put the sphere back in the wicker basket and sat up on the couch. "I don't think they liked to think about growing up, let alone talk about it." He then offered Peter a thumbs up, and told him, "Also, nice ad-lib. Uncle Pete. If Dad quizzes you about their childhood, say something like that again and you'll really cinche that you two were a couple."

"I was just making conversation, but thanks, kid," Peter replied with a chuckle.

Miles put up his hands in a careless gesture. "Oh, well, still, it's a good line you should use if you don't know what else to say."

Peter reached over and rubbed the top of Miles's head. "I couldn't agree more," he said. "Now, hit me with another one."

-o-O-o-

Miles looked back at Peter, he was standing, slightly slouched, on the step behind him, hands in his pants pockets. "Ready?" he asked as he put his key in the lock.

The man nodded. "Let's do this," replied Peter.

Flashing Peter one last encouraging smile, Miles unlocked the door and let them into his family's home. They'd hardly got the door closed behind them before his dad appeared from the kitchen, a towel in his hands. "Miles," he greeted, setting the dishtowel on the hallway's console board.

"Dad!" he returned, throwing his arms out for a hug.

His dad quickly covered the handful of steps between them and leaned in to wrap his arms around Miles. When he let Miles go after a beat, his attention trained on Peter, who was awkwardly looking up the steps that led to the second floor. His dad gave Miles's shoulder a squeeze before he passed him and offered a hand to Peter. "Hello, Pete…" he said, raising an eyebrow to make it clear he was fishing for a full name from the man.

Peter blinked and then quickly hurried to take Miles's dad's hand and shake it. "Uh, Benjamin," he stammered, "I'm Pete Benjamin."

"Hello, it's nice to meet you, Pete," his dad returned, now smiling.

"Nice to meet you too, Jeff," Peter said, offering a grin of his own. He cleared his throat and glanced away a moment. "It's nice to finally be able to put a face to the name," he lied.

Miles watched his dad's eyebrows jump high on his forehead before settling back down to join the rest of his face in a neutral expression. "Aaron talked about me, did he?"

Peter nodded and rubbed the back of his neck. "Mostly good," he offered.

His dad cracked another smile and joked, "Well, that's a relief."

Peter, still not quite looking at his dad, grimaced and said, "He didn't have a lot of room to be throwing stones, you know?"

The little bit of humor that his dad had shown vanished and a solemnity came to his tone as he replied, "…I do."

Miles watched Peter shift from foot to foot and glance behind him and his dad toward the kitchen. "So, uh, whatever it is, it smells good?" he said, tone lilting with uncertainty at the end like wasn't sure that was the right thing to say after such a serious exchange.

Dad, though, rolled with it. "We cooked up some of Rio's mom's favorite dishes," he told Peter as he moved to rest one of his arms around Miles's shoulders. "I hope you like Puerto Rican."

"Yeah?" Peter said, perking up. "That's great. I hope you guys didn't go to too much trouble for me."

His dad shook his head and made a dismissive noise before saying, "Oh no, Rio had planned to make her mother's rice dish even before she invited you by to eat with us. Throwing together the rest wasn't really that much more work."

"Good, good…" Peter muttered, looking uncomfortable once again. Miles wished there was something he could do, or maybe say, to put Peter at ease, but he knew there wasn't. Not really. This was _hella _awkward and there was no way to make it better as far as he could see.

"Dinner's ready!" his mom called from the kitchen, which prompted his dad to steer him toward the dining room. Peter took the hint and followed. There, they all sat down at the table as his mom finished putting down the last dish, which looked to be the rice Dad had been talking about. His mom smiled at Peter as she sat down. "Eat up!" she said before reaching for the pitcher of water on the table and pouring herself a glass. Reluctantly, Peter followed her instructions and served himself a piece of steak (that Dad no doubt grilled) from the platter while Miles put a heaping scoop of rice on his place. Soon, after everyone finished serving themselves, they settled in to eat.

After several quiet minutes, his mom, who didn't seem willing to let the almost comfortable silence be, asked Peter, "So, Pete, tell us a little about yourself! Have you always lived in New York?"

Swallowing down his latest bite of dinner, Peter quickly answered, "Yeah, I grew up here. My aunt and uncle raised me after my parents passed away when I was young."

Miles's mom frowned. "Oh, I'm sorry,"

Peter waved off her condolences with his fork and assured her, "It was a long time ago."

"And work? What do you do?" his dad asked, looking up from cutting a strip from his steak.

Peter's expression turned briefly panicked and Miles returned it. With all the work they'd put into making sure he knew enough about Uncle Aaron to pass for his ex-partner, they'd forgotten to flesh out his own life here in Miles's verse. Thankfully, though, Peter quickly recovered and fibbed, "I worked as a tech at Horizon's Lab and designed protective gear for people like soldiers and policemen, mostly."

"Oh, wow, sounds interesting," his mom enthused, smiling. "You said worked, though, are you on leave because you're sick?"

"Basically," hedged Peter. "I've started to get my illness under control as of late, though, so I think that will be changing soon."

His mom's smile only widened, clearly relieved to hear that he was doing okay and still had a job. "Oh, that's good news!" she exclaimed.

Peter grinned back at Miles's mom and nodded his head. "It really is," he said, picking up a forkful of rice, "it got to be touch and go there for a minute."

Miles's dad cleared his throat, drawing their attention to him. He looked a little apologetic before he inquired, "If it's not too personal of me to ask, how long were you and Aaron…?"

Peter shook his head to let his dad know it was okay and ate his forkful of rice before saying, "About four years, with a couple of breaks sprinkled in." His expression turned convincingly despondent as he lowered his gaze to his plate and mumbled, "I didn't know what this latest break up was going to lead to, but I didn't think it would be this."

Miles saw his dad twitch in his seat like he wanted to reach across the table and lay a sympathetic hand on Peter's shoulder, but instead of doing such, he nodded and replied, voice a little rough, "I can understand that. I always knew nothing good would come of Aaron's career choices, but I had still hoped maybe he could turn it around before it came to this."

Peter sighed and put down his fork. "Me too."

Miles found himself mildly impressed. Peter actually sounded really, really _sad _about happened to his uncle. So much so he felt a bit like tearing up himself. It was as if them being a couple wasn't a story at all, but the truth. While he knew that wasn't the case, and he'd _watched _him give that speech to his 'verse's MJ, it did make Miles wonder if Peter hadn't lost someone he loved to death before his ex-wife for him to be able to put on such a good act. Miles would have to ask some time if there'd been another girl before MJ.

For now, though, he just needed to help Uncle Pete make it through this dinner with his parents.

-o-O-o-

Miles was sprawled on his stomach, the little goober from Peni that had been delivered to him by Gwen propped in the crook of his arm. He was getting tired after a weekend of Spider-Man stuff and studying for his geometry test, but he would power through it for Gwen. She was even busier than him usually with school, Spider-Woman, her band, _and _ballet. It was pretty atypical for either of them to have more than a handful of minutes to just talk. Stifling a yawn, he paused just a moment before continuing to tell her about his weekend. "And Uncle Pete dropped in to have dinner with my family this Sunday, afterward we—"

Gwen's blue-green holographic figure frowned and a hand appeared in front of her face, cutting Miles off."—Wait, hold up. _Uncle _Pete?"

Oh. He'd never called him that to Gwen before, had he? He must be more tired than he thought if he was slipping up like that. Miles would have felt a little more embarrassed maybe if he weren't so exhausted. Unable to come up with an intelligent reply, he mumbled, "Uh…"

"When did you start calling him that?" Gwen asked, eyes bright with inquisitiveness.

Miles looked away from her hologram and sighed. Well, he'd put off telling her this story long enough, hadn't he? It had felt too mortifying to share when he first got the goober to talk to her. He hadn't even really been sure how to start that convo. 'Hey, wanna hear the stupid lie I came up with when I panicked that Uncle Pete now has to play along with unless he wants my parents to know everything that's happened to us and get shot by my dad for child endangerment?' Sheepish, he fiddled with the hem of his t-shirt and said, "Um, around the time we made up the story him an Uncle Aaron were a thing, I think?"

Gwen's eyes grew wide and her jaw dropped. For a moment, she appeared entirely at a loss, then, she shook her head and her face almost seemed to grow bigger as she said, "Wait, wait, _wait_. You never _told _me this." Pouting now, she chided, "C'mon, Miles, you're holding out on me. What's it you say there? Oh, right, spill the _tea, _dude."

Miles stifled another sigh before he explained the whole thing to her in the most minimal, least embarrassing way he could. No matter what, she was going to tease him about this for the _rest. Of. His. Life. _The least he could do was down-play it a little and leave out the most cringy details. By the time he was done, Gwen was nodding, a look of thoughtfulness on her face.

"Wow, no wonder Peter told Peni not to bother trying to figure out a way to send him home!" she remarked, which surprised Miles. Uncle Pete hadn't mentioned she had found a way to send him back. In fact, he'd said to the exact opposite. That right now even Peni didn't know how to send a whole person back yet. He'd brought up maybe stealing Dr. Ock's information about the collider, but Uncle Pete had said it was fine and that he wasn't _that _eager to get home given the amount of trouble it would bring Miles to follow through on the plan. Her voice almost too chipper, Gwen said, "He's got you guys!"

Dumbly, Miles mumbled, "Peni said she could send him home?"

Gwen dipped her chin in affirmative. "Almost a month ago!" she replied.

Miles just couldn't wrap his head around it. Why wouldn't Uncle Pete wanna go home? He'd wanted to make up with MJ there, right? What about here made him want to stick around? It could be the almost bi-weekly transfusions he got from Miles, that was for sure. "Why didn't Uncle—" he stopped, frustrated. Did he even deserve to be called an uncle, keeping secrets like this one? Miles shook his head and corrected himself, "_Peter_ say anything?"

Gwen rolled her eyes at Miles. "Because _Uncle Pete_ didn't want to go home and leave his _little nephew_ up against big bad New York all on his own," she teased.

Oh. That made a lot of sense, actually. He actually felt better about it now. It was kind of nice, knowing he cared so much about Miles after such a short amount of time. He was still going to talk to Uncle Pete and make sure he wasn't being stupid and doing something he didn't really want because he was scared of what was waiting for him back in his 'verse, but, until then, he was just going to enjoy the rest of his conversation with Gwen. Even if he could feel that she would be making fun of him for most of it. Groaning a little, he grumbled, "Oh my God, you are going to be so_ annoying _now_, _aren't you?"

Gwen gave him a wide, shit-eating grin. "You bet!"

* * *

**I hope you've enjoyed this take on your prompt XspriteyX. I strayed a little from it here and there, but I think it meets the main goal! And everyone else, I hope you liked the story too :)**

**Thank yo so much for reading!**


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